


everyone near and far

by starlight_sugar



Series: The General Specific [13]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlight_sugar/pseuds/starlight_sugar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories from The General Specific, because the world is a little bigger than Professor Risinger and Dr. Luna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. thank all of my friends

**Author's Note:**

> Rooster Teeth does not have my permission to use any portion of my writing in their content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
> From: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
> Subj: please don’t kidnap my girlfriend

Ashley’s promotion is finalized far too long after the process started. Everyone involved agrees on that: it shouldn’t have taken so long to get her moved to a better segment. Bruce personally would’ve loved to be done with this shit as soon as it started, but it turns out that there is a stunning amount of bureaucracy involved in moving an anchor between shows and finding someone to fill in the gap that she’s leaving.

“But you’re going to a better place now,” he tells Ashley solemnly. “And we’ll miss you when you’re gone.”

“I take no joy in moving on,” Ashley says, which is a) a total fucking lie, because this promotion is exciting, and b) probably way too serious, considering that they still work together. But what the hell, it’s kind of sad too, they can be a little dramatic. “Have you told Elyse that she’s getting my job yet?”

“Nah,” Bruce says. “We’ve got a couple of weeks to figure out how to tell her, so we want to surprise her.”

Ashley gives him a knowing look. “So you told James.”

Bruce wouldn’t quite say that he _told_ James, more that James had wandered into his office while he was mid-phone call saying that Elyse deserved this promotion, damn it, and there was no better choice for the position. James hadn’t had much of a choice in finding out. But he’d agreed that it’d make a hell of a surprise, once it was all finalized. Which had happened this morning.

“Yeah,” he says, because it’s easier than explaining any of that. “You know, we want to make it special, it’s a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal,” Ashley says earnestly. “Whenever you tell her, make sure you say congratulations from me, and that Meg and I are taking her out to celebrate.”

“I will,” Bruce promises. “Go tell everyone you know that you got the gig.”

“Everyone I know already knows that I was getting the gig,” Ashley says, but she’s smiling as she leaves anyways. Bruce is happy for her, he really is, even if he’ll miss working with her.

It’s a strange business they’re in when he’s still working with his coworker and also losing her, he decides. And with that he goes back to sending out emails.

.

To: [Group: Channel 7 KMXB News, 4:00 PM], [Group: Channel 7 KMXB News, 7:30 PM]  
From: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
Subj: FWD: you don’t get to argue about this

He’s insisting. Figured I should send the word along

Begin forwarded message:

> To: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
>  From: burns@univ.edu  
>  Subj: you don’t get to argue about this
> 
> Nope, sorry, I’m throwing a party, because my awesome fiancée just got a promotion that’s been in the works for way too long. Tell everyone you work with that it’s happening Saturday night. You’ll still have time for the 5K with Meg and Jon in the morning, but after that everyone is coming over to celebrate you.
> 
> I’m proud of you. xo

.

From: James (2:19 PM)  
So you have to find a way to surprise her before Saturday night

To: James (2:20 PM)  
What do you mean “you”

To: James (2:20 PM)  
One of us is married to her

From: James (2:21 PM)  
And one of us is her boss

From: James (2:21 PM)  
Her boss who is dating both me and her

From: James (2:21 PM)  
isn’t that a conflict of interest??

To: James (2:23 PM)  
Technically, yes, but I fought everyone at station management who cared, so we’re cool

From: James (2:24 PM)  
Who else knows about the promotion?

To: James (2:25 PM)  
Ashley and probably Meg, so we should probably do it soon

From: James (2:27 PM)  
what did you have in mind?

.

The thing is, as much as Bruce adores James and Elyse - and that’s wholehearted fucking adoration, make no mistake, he is regularly amazed by them - they tend to function a little differently than he does. James and Elyse work in gestures. They do things, they go out together, they visit each other throughout the day if they miss each other. It’s sweet, it’s nice, and it had freaked Bruce the fuck out the first time he’d been included in it.

See, Bruce does not work in gestures, he works in words. The fastest way to let someone know you care is to say “hey, I care,” and he stands by that. Words work fine without a gesture, but he’s not sure that a gesture without words has the same effects. It’s an ongoing debate between the three of them. Bruce is pretty consistently outnumbered, which is one of the disadvantages of dating a married couple. Possibly the only disadvantage.

What this all means is that James and Elyse are rubbing off on him, because as much as he wishes he could just say something, this seems like a gesture-y occasion. He knows it’d be easier to just sit Elyse down and say “hey, guess what, Ashley’s job is yours if you want it,” but that won’t mean the same thing as taking her out to dinner to celebrate.

“We could always tell her and then take her out,” James points out when Bruce tries to explain that to him. “Or take her somewhere nice and then tell her while we’re there. Or tell her and then just go rollerblading or something.”

Bruce pauses. “Is that an option?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Do you guys own rollerblades?”

James gives Bruce a strange look. “We would go somewhere that we can rent skates. Most people don’t actually own rollerblades.”

“I’m not most people,” Bruce says, leaning back in his chair. “She likes skating, right? Would it just be the three of us?”

“We can work that out later. Or we could tell her and then let her pick what she wants to do to celebrate.”

“What is she celebrating?” Elyse says from the doorway.

Bruce jumps and very nearly yelps in absolute terror, because she should not be allowed to sneak up on him like that, damn it. James doesn’t look alarmed at all, which also should not be allowed.

“Are we taking Ashley out for dinner or something?” Elyse adds. Bruce silently curses himself for thinking it was a good idea to have a conversation about surprising Elyse in his office, where she also works, where she regularly comes to visit him. Not the best choice.

“Uhhhh.” James looks at Bruce. “We’re- do you wanna- are you gonna. You know.”

“I kind of have to now,” Bruce admits, and picks up a paper from his desk. “Here, read this.”

Elyse takes the paper, looking cautiously between them. “So you guys know something I don’t know.”

“You would know it too, if you read the-” James leans in, squinting down at the paper. “The copy of the internal memo from station management approving the promotion of Elyse Willems, if she wants it.”

“Approving the _what,_ ” Elyse says, and begins reading.

James glances at Bruce. “I think this is going pretty well.”

Bruce shrugs. “Our timing’s bad, but yeah, you know.”

“I,” Elyse says, looking utterly lost. She looks up from the memo, eyes wide. “What?”

“Only if you want it,” Bruce says quickly. “But, you know, management said that you’re the best out of everyone who was filling in. And I agreed, personally, which is why I recommended you.”

“You want-” she looks between Bruce and the memo, and then to James. “And you knew about this too?”

“Only by accident,” James says. “But you deserve this, if you want it.”

“But.” Elyse goes back to the memo, eyes moving left to right. Bruce understands. This is probably a hell of a surprise. There was probably a better way to do this. That way might’ve been while they were all out roller skating together. They’re probably doing this in the wrong order.

“We have a list in case you don’t want to,” Bruce adds, because that’s important to say. “So no pressure, if you want to stay a reporter instead of an anchor that’s fine, you should do what you want-”

“Ashley’s job,” Elyse says. The paper is trembling in her hands. “You’re giving me Ashley’s job.”

“Congratulations,” James says, and that finally seems to get through to her. She throws herself at him and he catches her easily. The memo drifts to the floor and Elyse’s arms wind a little tighter around James’s chest.

After a minute, Elyse detaches herself and points at James accusingly. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t know if I could.” James lifts his hands in the universal gesture of not-my-fault. “Bruce is the one who intentionally didn’t tell you, you should talk to him about that.”

“She knew we were considering her!” Bruce protests. He’d made it very clear to all of the fill-in anchors they’d had that they were being considered for the position, including Elyse. Ashley had been in and out because of her promotion, and out of everyone who had covered her role in the studio, Elyse had gotten the best reception. He’d been proud and completely unsurprised. Elyse is the kind of person you can’t help but love. God knows he couldn’t.

“Yeah,” Elyse says. She steps closer to Bruce’s desk, almost hesitantly. “I knew, but I wasn’t expecting - really?”

Bruce wants to say something witty, something nice, but he can’t be anything other than fucking proud. “You did good, Wheezy,” he says, climbing out of his chair to his feet. Over Elyse’s shoulder he sees James half-smile.

“Jesus, Bruce,” Elyse says, half a sob, and rushes forward to hug him. He meets her halfway, swinging his arms around her waist when she lifts hers to clutch at his neck. She tugs him down and he bends over so she can press a sound kiss to his lips.

“So that’s a yes, right?” James says. When Bruce looks over he’s grinning fondly, off to the side, and when he and Elyse reach out to tug him into their space it’s in perfect tandem. Elyse ends up folded between them, and James grins when he catches Bruce’s eye.

“It’s a yes,” Elyse answers after a moment.

“Good,” James says, “because Bruce wants to take you roller skating to celebrate.”

“Or out to dinner,” Bruce adds quickly. “Dinner and a skate, you know, it’ll be your night.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Elyse says. Bruce can hear her smiling even if he can’t see it.

.

To: [Group: Channel 7 KMXB News, 4:00 PM]  
From: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
Subj: New anchor for 4PM news

A lot of you have been asking and it’s Elyse. That’s it. Now you know. Go say nice things to her.

.

To: [Group: Channel 7 KMXB News, 4:00 PM]  
From: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
Subj: In all seriousness

Management and I took this decision very seriously. Ashley is leaving some big shoes to fill when she moves on, and we wanted to make sure that we chose the best person to take over for her. This is not meant as a replacement, just as a change, and everyone at management almost unanimously chose her. It took some screaming but anyone who disagreed came to my side eventually, which was as always the right place to be.

Elyse is a talented reporter and we know she’s going to be a talented anchor. Make sure you tell her that, too.

.

To: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
From: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
Subj: Re: In all seriousness

Burnie says that Elyse (and by extension you and James) can be the guests of honor at the party, if you want. Second on the totem pole below me. Not sure exactly what that’ll involve. Also, Meg and I are taking Elyse to the spa the Sunday after the party, so whatever you guys do make sure it’s not on Sunday.

.

To: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
From: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
Subj: please don’t kidnap my girlfriend

We’ll work around it. One of us’ll get back to you about that party.

.

To: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
From: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
Subj: she’s ours now

You couldn’t have picked someone better for that job.

.

To: jenkinsa@kmxb7.com  
From: greeneb@kmxb7.com  
Subj: james is going to kick your ass

I know.


	2. lucky ones are we all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Demarais, head writer. She’s still a little starstruck when she thinks about that. It’s pretty fucking cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written prior to Arryn's request not to be included in fic and remains unedited for the time being for archiving purposes.

It takes fifteen minutes for Barb to get from her gate to Starbucks to baggage claim. She’s glad she thought to get herself something cold, because the California summer is in full swing and the heat hits her as soon as she’s outside.

“It’s actually a little cold for this time of year,” Arryn says, as soon as Barb’s suitcase is in her trunk and they’ve had their twenty-second reunion hug. “I mean, not cold, just below average.”

“This is not below average,” Barbara says. She’s always loved LA, even if she would never live here. Airport traffic around LAX is terrible, and LA traffic as a whole is terrible, but it’s going to be worth it. This may be a work trip, but it’s also going to be damn fun. “So are you just dropping me off at the office? What’s the plan?”

“We can grab lunch,” Arryn offers. “My treat. I haven’t seen you since January.”

“You’re sure we have time?”

“Yeah, the meeting’s not till two.” Arryn glances at her. “And Chris said he’s busy with writing stuff all day, so you should let him get work done now.”

Barbara snorts. “Because he’s going to be distracted later?”

“Yeah,” Arryn says, smiling. “Exactly.”

It’s not like Barb can blame him, exactly. They’d been careful when they planned the visit out: as much as she wants to see her boyfriend, she’s here to coordinate press releases, and he’s still a writer. The head writer in the Los Angeles office. Chris Demarais, head writer. She’s still a little starstruck when she thinks about that. It’s pretty fucking cool.

But head writers have to write, and Barb’s stomach is beginning to make dragon noises, so she looks at Arryn and says, “where can we go for lunch?”

Arryn’s lunch spot turns out to be a hole-in-the-wall Mediterranean cafe with falafel that she swears by. Barbara isn’t a falafel person, but the gyro she orders is fantastic, so she’s on board.

“Tell me about work,” she says, and Arryn does. Arryn always has at least one good story about modeling that she’s ready to tell, and this one somehow involves a dead fish. It also involves Barbara choking on her gyro a couple of times, but that’s what she gets for trying to eat when Arryn is busy telling a fantastic story.

She holds out through three stories, each one more ridiculous than the last. By then the gyro’s gone, and Barb’s stomach hurts from laughing. Arryn is a good storyteller, but she’s also sharp as a damn tack, so after the third story her gaze goes shrewd. “You can ask me, you know.”

Barbara doesn’t bother bullshitting her. It’s Arryn, they’ve known each other since college, and she trusts Arryn to be honest. “How’s Chris doing?”

“I don’t see him all that often,” Arryn warns her. “They contract me for table reads, that’s about it.”

“Still more than I see him,” Barbara mutters, feeling a twinge of…  _ something _ in her gut. It’s been a handful of weeks, and she knows that it’s really not a long time, considering they’re still not sure how permanent this position is going to be. He could just be out here long enough to make sure that the office is stable. He could be here until he leaves the company. She hopes the first few weeks are going to be the hardest.

Arryn tilts her head, looking sympathetic. “He’s doing good. The company has its shit together, and his apartment is… okay.”

Barb has seen Chris’s apartment. Calling it okay may be higher flattery than it deserves. “But he’s, you know, eating on a regular basis and all that?”

“I’d assume so.” Arryn smiles, a little wistful. “God, Barb, you have no idea how sappy you sound whenever you talk about him.”

Barb shrugs. “I mean. It’s Chris.” She wishes she could say something more, but that’s all she has. It’s enough, probably, because Arryn seems to understand.

.

Barbara meets Gray Haddock not at two o’clock when their meeting is scheduled, but ten minutes later when he comes in with a smoothie in each hand. “I’d shake your hand,” he says, “but I know you just got in this morning, and I figured you may want a little California hospitality. Unfortunately, California hospitality apparently takes two hands.”

It takes all of two seconds for her to decide that she likes him. “I’d rather have a smoothie than a handshake, if that’s an option.”

Gray holds out one of the smoothies. “I asked Chris and he said you like strawberry-pineapple. I’m assuming he knows what better than I do.”

“Probably,” she admits, taking the smoothie. “I still feel like I need to do a proper introduction, but-”

“Nah, we both know who we are.” Gray sits down at one end of the table, and Barbara decides that there’s no damn point in sitting anywhere but right next to him. If they’re looking at papers together, they shouldn’t have to slide folders across a table. “So, welcome to our low-quality conference room.”

“Hey, don’t knock it, you’ve got a nice table.”

“We’re working with what we’ve got.” Gray gives her a crooked smile. Barb understands completely why the company hired him to manage this office. He’s likable, he brought her a smoothie, and the conference table was probably meant to be on a patio instead of in an office. It’s a completely different environment from her office, and she likes it. “So, you’re here to talk about press shit.”

“That’s what they pay me for.” Barbara reaches into her bag and pulls out a folder. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t have any problem with the ones we were emailing about. You know what a good press release is.”

Gray shrugs. “Better to have a professional come out for the day than to guess and be wrong, isn’t it?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Barbara says, because this has been bothering her. “I could’ve approved this over email. There’s literally no reason for me to be out here.”

“You’re here to promote the work that the California branch is doing,” Gray says, a wry little twist to his lips. “You’re mostly here for social media, you know that.”

“This seems fishy.”

“And because your boyfriend deserves something nice.” Gray shrugs. “You’re right, I could’ve probably gotten this all done over email, but it’s better to have you here. It’s a good sign that they’re investing in business trips. And I wanted to meet you in person, since you’ve been coordinating so much with me the past few weeks.”

Barb takes a long sip of her smoothie, mulling all of that over. “You’re a devious motherfucker,” she announces after a minute. “That’s really smart.”

Gray grins. “That’s why they put me in charge of things.” He slides Barbara’s folder over and flips it open. “You realize this just says ‘you already got it right.’”

“Yeah, because you already got it right.” Barb glances at her phone. “So, uh, do we have to pretend we’re in a formal business meeting? Do you want to talk or anything, or-”

“Turn left when you leave this room and his office is the second one on the right.” Gray hands her folder back, and she stuffs it in her bag, trying to hide her grin. “Tell him I said he can take off early as long as everything gets done by tomorrow.”

“I like you, Gray,” Barb announces as she pushes herself to her feet. “You’re doing a good job. And I’m gonna tell them that back home.”

“I’m sure it’ll mean worlds to them,” Gray says dryly, but there’s a bit of real pride underneath there. “Nice meeting you, Barbara.”

“You too,” Barb says, and then she’s out the door and turning left. The second door on the right is already open, and she takes a deep breath before she knocks on the open door and pokes her head in.

Completely predictably, Chris doesn’t move from where he’s typing. “Give me two minutes, just gotta wrap this up.”

“Yep, two minutes,” Barb says, leaning against the doorframe. She’s pretty sure it’ll take him two minutes to realize that it’s her anyways.

Chris gives her a thumbs up and keeps typing. Barb takes the opportunity to snap a picture and send it off to Aaron, because he deserves to know his boyfriend is in one piece, too.

A minute later she gets back  _ if it were me he would’ve looked up, _ which she’s pretty sure Aaron knows is bullshit, but she snorts at it anyways. He can dream if he wants, she won’t stop him.

“Done!” Chris says suddenly, spinning his chair around. Barbara barely has the time to realize he’s on his feet before he launches himself at her, catching her in a hug.

“Hi,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing tight. It feels unspeakably fucking amazing to be able to touch him again, to have him here in front of her.

Chris buries his face in her neck and breathes in deep, probably getting a noseful of hair in the process and probably not caring. “Missed you,” he mumbles.

“Missed you too,” Barb answers without hesitation. She wonders if she should say something else but she thinks that might have been enough.

“Like, a lot,” he adds. “Aaron too, but don’t tell him that, he’ll get jealous that you got to come out here and he didn’t.”

“He’s already jealous,” she admits.

Chris pulls back to give her a wounded look. “Why are you here without him?”

“Gray only wanted to fly one person out, make it a small trip.” She sighs. It’s not right, only having two of them together. She wishes Aaron could be here, but between his workload and the fact that technically no one needed to be here to begin with, it just wasn’t possible. “But on the bright side, Gray said that you’re done for the day as long as you can get everything done tomorrow.”

Chris blinks. “Really?”

“Really,” Barb says, half-laughing. “So, you know, finish what you have to-”

“Nope, we’re leaving,” Chris says, and leans forward to kiss her. Barb moves in to meet him halfway. Kissing Chris is one of those things that she never gets tired of, that’s so careful and sweet that it’s like falling in love all over again, and right now it’s like coming home.

.

“I mean, we’re working on a lot of things,” Chris says, looking almost guilty. “I’ve got two different scripts underway, and we’re in the process of casting for some shorter stuff, and-”

“Chris,” Aaron says gently. “It’s my job too. I know it’s busy.”

“But I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Chris says. There’s genuine anguish in his voice, and Barbara leans her head against his shoulder. “I wish I could come back, but-”

“But you’re busy building a second branch of the company from the ground up,” Barb reminds him. “We talked about this. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Talking about it wasn’t the same as actually doing it,” Chris mutters. Barbara catches one of his hands in hers and squeezes it, and he sighs. “I’m gonna come back.”

“I’m gonna find time to come out there, too,” Aaron says. Not even hundreds of miles and a shitty Skype connection can mask the total determination in his face. “Don’t worry, we’re going to make this work.”

“We’re already making it work,” Barb adds. The last few weeks have been hard, and she’s not sure if this trip is going to make it better or worse, but they’ve made it this far already. They’re going to keep making it.

“Yeah,” Chris says. “So far, so good, right?”

“So far, so good,” Aaron repeats, grinning at them. “I’m gonna let you guys get back to whatever it is you’re going to do-” he pauses to waggle his eyebrows, and Barb rolls her eyes - “but hey. Have a good time.”

“Wish you were here,” Chris answers, and something low in Barb’s chest aches because of how much he clearly means it.

“Next time,” Aaron says, like a promise, and Barb can’t help but smile at him. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Chris echoes.

“Love you three,” Barb says. She blows a kiss at the laptop screen.

“Yeah, uh, that missed,” Aaron says. “It went right over my shoulder, you gotta try again.”

Barb rolls her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Don’t listen to her, I’ll get it right,” Chris says. He blows a kiss of his own towards Aaron.

“See, he did it right.” Aaron grins. “Chris loves me.”

“More than Barb does,” Chris adds.

“Shut up,” Barb says. She’s pretty sure they know that she doesn’t mean it, given how disgustingly fond she sounds even to her own ears.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron says. He’s smiling too. “See you guys soon, okay? Don’t have too much fun without me.”

The call ends. Barbara turns to Chris. “What’s the most fun we can have without him?”

“I know some places,” Chris answers, grinning at her. “Let’s go.”


	3. when you smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To: Steffie (9:47 PM)  
> hey babe ;)))
> 
> From: Steffie (9:48 PM)  
> I’m assuming someone stole your phone. If not I’m going to need an explanation.

Maggie puts both her hands on the table, steely-eyed. “Okay, let’s get down to it.”

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Matt says, even though they all know it is. “Maggie, you already know him, you don’t have to-”

“Yes we do,” Ben says immediately.

Matt gives Trevor a pleading look. “Come on, man, back me up.”

Trevor shrugs. “Sorry, this seems like it’s going to be fun.”

“I hate you all,” Matt says balefully.

Next to him, Jeremy looks mildly terrified. “Is this hazing? Are you about to haze me?”

“I wouldn’t call it hazing,” Maggie says. “It’s more like… interrogating.”

“That’s not better,” Matt groans.

“If any of us start dating people, you can do it to them,” Ben offers.

Maggie wants to protest that, because there’s a lot of potential for that going wrong, but Trevor is already nodding. “It’ll happen to multiple people, Jeremy is just going to be the first unfortunate victim.”

“Matt,” Jeremy stage-whispers, “I don’t think I like this.”

Matt puts a protective arm around Jeremy’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Okay, you’re the only one who said anything about hurting anyone,” Maggie says. “I think you’re being melodramatic. We just want to ask Jeremy about his intentions towards you.”

“Banging,” Jeremy says instantly. “And also, y’know, dates and shit. Romance.”

“In that order,” Matt adds. “See, we’re on the same page, we only like each other for our bodies.”

“Jeremy has bad taste in bodies,” Ben murmurs.

“That is.” Matt pauses. “Completely true. He could do better.”

“So could you,” Jeremy points out. “But here we are, in a sports bar, being interrogated by your friends because you couldn’t do better than them.”

“Can’t do better than the best,” Trevor says easily.

“None of us even watch sports,” Matt says. “Maggie’s just friends with one of the bartenders.”

“I’ve known Cole since I was in pigtails,” Maggie points out. “And since I’m the only one of us who’s legally old enough to drink, you owe him a lot of thank-yous for giving you booze.”

Matt looks pointedly at his Shirley Temple and back at Maggie. She meets his eyes evenly. Cole is doing them all a favor whether or not they all take advantage of it. Matt had better act like that’s the best thing that’s ever passed his goddamn lips or else he’s dead to her. Luckily, it seems that she communicates that through her eyes alone, because he doesn’t argue.

“Am I still being interrogated?” Jeremy asks. “And is this going to be, like, what’s your favorite color, which celebrities are on your cheat list, that kind of interrogation?”

“Cheat list?” Matt repeats. “We’re going to have cheat lists? Is that a thing?”

“And here we have our first breakdown in communications,” Trevor announces.

“I’m bored with interrogating,” Ben says, followed by a long swig of beer. Maggie hopes that’s less boring than interrogating.

Really, she doesn’t have anything she wants to say to Jeremy. Matt’s right: she already knows him. All of them do. In the months since the play, Matt’s tentative lunch date with Jeremy led to a renewed friendship, and Maggie privately thinks that he’s the unspoken fifth member of their group. He’s not in the group chat yet, but she knows that Trevor and Matt both want to add him. Ben probably does too, and, well, she likes Jeremy. This is more a principle-of-the-thing situation than actually wanting to intimidate him. She’s pretty sure good friends are supposed to question their friends’ significant others. God knows she’s done enough of that to Cole’s boyfriends over the years.

“Does anyone have any more questions for my boyfriend?” Matt says, sounding bored. Maggie doesn’t miss the two seconds of delight flickering on Jeremy’s face at the word “boyfriend” before he settles back into something neutral. God, but they’re cute.

Ben takes another drink of his beer. Trevor shrugs, not looking particularly bothered.

Matt glances at her. “Maggie?”

“Who’s on your cheat list?” Maggie asks, despite her better judgment.

“Don’t have one.” Jeremy shrugs. “I mean, we haven’t talked about it, so I can’t answer.”

“Nice save,” Matt mutters.

“Good answer,” Maggie corrects him. Even if it’s bullshit, the boy knows what the right answers are.

“I know who’s on Maggie’s cheat list,” Cole announces. He has a Shirley Temple in one hand, which he sets on the table in front of Matt.

Matt looks slowly between the new drink and his still-full old drink, and clearly decides not to question it. Maggie knows that Cole is just being a nosy fuck and trying to eavesdrop, but she’ll allow it. These may be her best friends, but she and Cole practically grew up in each other’s backyards. If he wants to play the part of annoying nosy brother, she’ll let him.

“Maggie can’t have a cheat list,” Trevor points out.

Cole looks confused. “Why not?”

“Because she’s not dating anyone to cheat on.”

There’s no time to do anything. Maggie doesn’t have the chance to flash a warning signal or make an exit. She knows what’s going to happen, and she is absolutely powerless to stop it when Cole turns his confused look on her and says, “You still haven’t told them?”

Everything goes totally still. Maggie closes her eyes. She is pretty sure that this, right here, is what it feels like to realize you’re fucked.

“So,” Cole says conversationally, “that’s probably a no, and I’m going to leave before I get disemboweled.”

“I’m coming for you later,” Maggie mutters, but she lets him walk away. “Before you say anything, it’s only been two dates, and-”

“Two?” Matt repeats. “You went on two dates and you didn’t tell us?”

Maggie opens her eyes specifically to glare at him. “Two dates isn’t enough to talk about.”

“Cole knew,” Ben argues.

“We didn’t even know about a crush,” Trevor says. He sounds disappointed. “We didn’t even know there was something that we didn’t know.”

“That was the point,” Maggie says, but the guilt is curling up in her gut, heavy and ugly. “I didn’t think it was going to be anything, so I didn’t want to say anything. In case it didn’t work out.”

Matt raises his eyebrows. “But it’s working out?”

Maggie bites her lip. She could tell them that their third date is scheduled for Wednesday night, specifically chosen because everyone here will be busy with the first week of the semester, and she can decide how serious she wants this to be without their interference. But then, who’s better qualified to decide if she could be serious about someone than her best friends?

“I think so,” she admits. “I was going to tell you guys, really, but I wanted to test the waters first. And now they’re tested, so you should know. And I really like her.”

“Then we get to meet her,” Ben decides. “You’re going to tell us all about her, and we get to meet her.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Maggie sighs. This was inevitable. She knew that. “What do you want to know?”

“More than whatever Cole knows,” Jeremy mutters.

Maggie decides that it might not be the best time to bring up that Cole has already met her, even if it was before they were dating. Now, she just has to paint her two-dates almost-girlfriend in the best light possible.

.

To: Steffie (9:47 PM)   
hey babe ;)))

From: Steffie (9:48 PM)   
I’m assuming someone stole your phone. If not I’m going to need an explanation.

To: Steffie (9:48 PM)   
Maggie doesn’t call you babe??

From: Steffie (9:49 PM)   
It was the wink that gave you away, actually.

From: Steffie (9:49 PM)   
Is this British friend, theater friend, theater friend’s boyfriend, rocket scientist friend, or Cole?

To: Steffie (9:50 PM)   
okay what the fuck why does she love Cole more than us

To: Steffie (9:50 PM)   
rocket scientist

From: Steffie (9:51 PM)   
You know she’s going to kick your shit in when she sees you took her phone.

To: Steffie (9:52 PM)   
hey go easy on me I didn’t know you existed until like an hour ago

To: Steffie (9:52 PM)   
do you know my name

From: Steffie (9:53 PM)   
Either Matt or Trevor. I get you mixed up.

From: Steffie (9:53 PM)   
She has a picture of the four of you in her office, you know.

To: Steffie (9:53 PM)   
aw she loves us after all

To: Steffie (9:54 PM)   
You’re ruining my street cred, you know.

From: Steffie (9:55 PM)   
Why do you need street cred?

To: Steffie (9:56 PM)   
For the streets. You know how it is.

.

“I want to meet your friends,” Steffie announces.

Maggie turns around from her desk to quirk an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure about that?”

Steffie shrugs. “I’ve already met Cole-”

“By accident,” Maggie mutters. Cole had wandered in to visit Maggie at work once, completely failing to understand that an accounting firm isn’t the place to just wander in and visit a friend when you get bored. Steffie had delivered a very lost-looking Cole to Maggie’s desk, looking a little wry, and that had been that.

“Still met him,” Steffie reminds her. “And, you know, you talk about them a lot.”

Maggie wishes she could argue with that, but she does. She’s proud of them, in a weird pseudo-motherly way. She’d been proud when Trevor got a good summer research opportunity and when Ben started getting commissioned by respectable companies to design websites. Pride doesn’t even begin to cover how happy she is that Matt and Jeremy finally squared the fuck up. And what’s more, she’s pretty sure that they’re proud of her too, for landing a good job straight out of graduation. That’s what friendship really means.

“Also, I’ve had a conversation with Trevor now,” Steffie continues. “And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know what I look like.”

“I showed them pictures,” Maggie protests. Steffie had been perfectly understanding about the whole take-it-slow thing, but she’d also pointed out that they should have pictures together, just on principle. That principle had come in pretty handy last night.

“Oh, well in that case.” Steffie’s gaze softens. “I’m gonna like them.”

“I know,” Maggie says immediately. There’s no doubt in her mind that Steffie is going to get along great with all of them. She already gets along with Trevor, apparently, so that’s a step in the right direction.

“Okay,” Steffie says softly. Maggie thinks she can tell that she’s not getting the whole story here, but she doesn’t know how to explain what she’s feeling. She doesn’t date people, hasn’t really even tried since high school. Steffie is an exception, and Maggie doesn’t regret it, but she’s also extremely out of practice with this whole dating thing. It’s about more than just surety for her, it’s about genuinely not knowing if she’s taking things too fast or not. But maybe date three is around when things are supposed to get a little closer, and it’s not like there’s much that could go wrong if she introduces Steffie to them.

“Not that I can guarantee anything,” she starts cautiously, “but I can see if I can drag them out to dinner sometime next weekend. If you want.”

“If I want,” Steffie repeats.

Maggie rolls her eyes. “Okay, because you want.”

“Better,” Steffie says. She moves a little closer and leans in to kiss Maggie’s cheek. Maggie can’t help but grin at it, even though she’s pretty sure she’s turning pink.

“Hey, now,” someone says. Steffie jumps back, surprised, and Maggie spins around to see their boss standing on the other side of her desk, mock-scowling at them. “You all are cute, but you’re also on the clock, so get back to pushing papers.”

“Yes, Mr. Rubin,” Steffie says, the picture of innocence. “Of course, Mr. Rubin. How’s your husband doing, by the way?”

Joel’s face clears instantly. “He’s doing great, actually. He’s teaching a new class this semester in conjunction with the political science department about legislation on new communications technology and - you were just asking to prove that anyone can get distracted at work, weren’t you?”

“No, of course she wasn’t,” Maggie says, even though she probably was. “We’re happy to hear about him, you know that.”

“You’re lucky that I’m always ready to talk about Adam,” Joel says, sniffing in mock disdain. “But really, we are all at work, and we should do some work.” With that he goes on his way.

Steffie glances at Maggie. “See you tonight?”

“Tonight,” Maggie repeats, smiling. Steffie beams at her and goes back to her desk, and Maggie suddenly has to stare really, really hard at the papers in front of her to keep from grinning like an absolute idiot.

.

To: Cole (12:05 PM)   
How many dates do you have to go on before you can call someone your girlfriend?

From: Cole (12:06 PM)   
You should ask her tonight, it’s about time

From: Cole (12:06 PM)   
I’m proud of you

To: Cole (12:07 PM)   
<3


	4. to say i've been truer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From: Michael (5:09 PM)   
> Quit being so fucking dramatic
> 
> To: Michael (5:11 PM)   
> I am a literal drama professor

“We need a student-directed production,” Lindsay announces.

“That’s nice,” Ryan says distractedly, flipping a page over. It takes a minute for him to actually look up at her, and whatever he sees, he must realize she’s serious. “Oh, shit.”

“Ryan,” Lindsay says, “how do you feel about supervising a student play?”

.

Lindsay is something of an expert on directing plays. It sort of comes with the territory of being a theatre professor in a relatively small school. She’s directed a handful of plays, starting as a student and then as a professor. Last semester was the first time that she had the chance to co-direct, and she’s pretty sure that she had the best co-director she could’ve asked for. Miles and Kerry were good writers too. She’d ask them to write something else for this, but Miles had looked kind of freaky when he forgot to shave for days at a time during the first draft, and besides, if a student is directing then it should be their choice what to do.

And here’s the thing: Lindsay fucking loves her students. The theatre majors are some of the greatest people at this university, and they’re the reason she does what she does. She has seen a lot of them come through this program and go on to do some really cool shit. She’s always proud to say that she had a part in it, however small that part was. But she doesn’t remember the last time there was a production by students for students, and that’s a total shame. It’s time that they do that again.

These students deserve an opportunity, and damn it, Lindsay is going to make sure that they get one.

.

“I don’t think we have enough time to put it together for this semester,” Ryan says, after two days of “I’ll think about it” and ignoring the half-dozen ideas and show concepts that Lindsay sent him. “Maybe we could, if we hit a concept we really liked, but it’d be hard to assemble something cohesive that fast.”

“So next semester,” Lindsay says. “We just need a student.”

“Yeah, about that. Who did you have in mind?”

Lindsay pauses. She has a shortlist in her head, but she doesn’t actually know who on that list would want to do it. She’d ask Jeremy but he’s not a major, and really, if anyone does this, it should be a major. Preferably a senior.

“Think about that first,” Ryan says. “Gives you a clear vision.”

“I don’t need a clear vision, that’s bullshit,” Lindsay says, half-automatically. She knows that Ryan is right, but it’s the principle of the thing. She doesn’t want him to be.

Ryan snorts. “Yeah, whatever you say, Jones.”

“Go to your own office,” she mutters. Before he even leaves she’s pulling up a roster of theatre majors on her computer. One of these kids is going to be her magic bullet.

.

“Honey, I’m home,” Lindsay yells as soon as she’s in the house. She gets no answer, which is exactly what she expected, because Ray is shit at answering and Michael is probably at work. This is how it goes every day and she doesn’t know why she bothers, but she still bothers.

She wanders into the kitchen and smacks the list of theatre majors down on the counter to look at it one more time. At this point, she could probably recite it from memory, complete with her color-coded notes and which names are crossed out or circled. The way she sees it, there are three good choices for a student director, and two of them are her advisees. She’d triple-checked with Ryan to make sure that didn’t count as bias, and now here she is with three names on a list and no idea how to narrow them down.

Lindsay gets herself a glass of water. She deserves it.

By the time she’s running through her mental checklist of student competency for the second time in a row (Would she rather have an actor or someone experienced as a stage manager? Does it matter if they have an emphasis in musical theatre? Who’s going to work the best with her and Ryan? Is Ryan even going to help supervise?) Ray has found his way into the kitchen. He glances down at the list, and she doesn’t even need to look to know that he raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Whoa. That’s a pretty intense list.”

“I’ve made many mistakes,” Lindsay says solemnly, still staring down. “I think this may be one of them.”

“Are these your options for the student thing?”

“Yeah, but I think I need a clean list. Too many notes.” She glances at Ray to see that he’s scanning the list, mouthing something to himself as he reads. “I might’ve gone too hard.”

“So you’ve narrowed it down to these ones?” He reaches out and taps a finger against all three names that she was considering.

“I mean, that’s the shortlist, but if it doesn’t work out, I have backups.”

“And those are all of the ones with the green stars next to them.”

Lindsay is suddenly and intensely grateful that she has a boyfriend who learned her shitty color-coding system. “Yeah, those ones.”

Ray looks up and down the list one more time. “Yeah, I think you went too hard. You have backups for your backups’ backups.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Lindsay says immediately, but Ray’s already headed towards the fridge, which means he’s moved on. “Anything exciting happen today?”

“I played some Tetris,” Ray says. “It was pretty sweet.”

Lindsay nods, distractedly, already looking at the list again. There is a right answer here. She just doesn’t know what it is.

“Oh, also,” Ray adds, “Michael said they asked him to stay overnight at the fire station.”

She frowns. “Again?”

“He’s going to try and get this whole weekend free, but.” When Lindsay looks back at Ray, he’s mid-shrug, mouth twisted in a “what-can-you-do” kind of way. “It’s his job.”

“Did he say when he’s getting home?”

“Sometime in the morning.”

Lindsay nods. It’s easier when it’s something short like that. She loves Michael, has for a long time, but sometimes she thinks the sheer fucking  _ stress _ of being married to a firefighter is going to kill her. She’d never dream of asking him to stop, it’d be like asking him not to breathe, but he’s been working longer hours lately. She misses him.

She’s willing to bet Ray does too, because she glances sidelong at him. “Do you have any work stuff to do tonight, or do you want to order takeout and find bad reality TV?”

“I want to find good reality TV,” Ray mutters. “We haven’t watched cooking shows in a while.”

“Food Network it is,” Lindsay decides.

“I hope Cupcake Wars is on,” Ray says. “What are we gonna order?”

Lindsay leaves the list on the counter when they go upstairs. Just because Ray works from home doesn’t mean she has to, and besides, this is a night for them.

.

To: Michael (5:08 PM)   
Stay safe

From: Michael (5:09 PM)   
Quit being so fucking dramatic

To: Michael (5:11 PM)   
I am a literal drama professor

From: Michael (5:12 PM)   
I’ll see you tomorrow

.

Michael climbs into bed sometime during the fuzzy gray hours of the morning. Ray doesn’t wake up. Lindsay does, just like she does every time this happens.

“Go back to fucking sleep,” Michael mutters, slinging an arm around her waist.

“You too,” Lindsay answers, pulling Ray a little closer to them both.

“What was that list on the counter?”

“That’s going to be the reason I get an ulcer.”

“Don’t do that,” Michael says, already sounding drowsy. “It’d be bad.”

His breathing evens out within seconds, and Lindsay closes her eyes again. It’s better when he’s home.

.

Lindsay personally thinks that “a firefighter, a theatre professor, and an online business owner walk into a bar” sounds like an amazing set-up to a joke. She’s been trying to figure out a punchline for years. Michael says that Ray wouldn’t go into a bar. Ray says that they’re weird enough without a punchline. Lindsay just wants them to work with her here and make the best weird joke of their lifetimes.

“The best part is the implication that your life is a joke,” Ryan said, the first time Lindsay told him.

“My life  _ is _ a joke, Ryan,” she’d answered.

Ryan grinned. “It explains why you’re always laughing.”

Lindsay thinks about that, some days. Sure, shit is stressful and scary sometimes, but not all the time. Life is better when you can laugh through it. Besides, no matter what Ryan says, she thinks “a news anchor, a photographer, and a theatre professor” sounds like a pretty good joke too.

.

“You could just pick a student,” Ryan points out, after four or so days of Lindsay staring at the list until her eyes almost fucking bleed. “If you’re advising, pick a student you’re advising so that way it’s someone you know.”

“Congratulations, you’ve narrowed it down from three to two.”

“You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“It could be a cool senior project! I want to give someone a cool senior project.”

“Then pick a cool senior.”

“You’re no longer co-supervising,” Lindsay informs him. “I’m doing this on my own. With a student.”

“Then it’s your project,” Ryan says exasperatedly. “Whatever student you pick, they’re working with you, so pick someone you can work with.”

“I don’t want a big role in this.”

Ryan shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Lindsay.”

“They deserve a good project!”

“Okay, hang on.” Ryan steps closer to her desk. “I want to try something really quick. Mental exercise.”

Lindsay looks at him cautiously. “Sure?”

“We’re gonna do word associations, have you done that before?”

“Where you say something and I say the first thing I think of?”

“Exactly. So if I say soup-”

“Vegetable,” Lindsay answers immediately.

Ryan nods. “Good. Shoes?”

“Converse.”

“Musical?”

“Guys and Dolls.”

“Student director?”

“Mica,” Lindsay says automatically, and then, “Oh, god  _ damn _ , you’re good.”

“It was that easy,” Ryan says. “Four days. It was that easy.”

“This is why I talk to you. You get me, Ryan.”

“I don’t want to get you,” Ryan mutters, but he looks pleased. “Does that help?”

“I need to email Mica,” Lindsay announces. “Thanks, Ryan.”

Ryan reaches to her desk and picks up the list of students. “I’m burning this.”

“Don’t set the smoke alarms off.”

“It’s good to know you care.”

Lindsay’s pretty sure he just puts it in the paper shredder instead of burning it. Either way, she’s glad to see it go. It’s going to be better to just work with Mica.

.

“I told you that you went too hard,” Ray says. “Should’ve gone with your gut.”

“It would’ve saved us all a lot of bitching,” Michael adds.

“We should play Mario Kart,” Lindsay says, because they’d make fun of her if she said “I love you” right now. Mario Kart more or less means love, anyways.


	5. slow down if i am able

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October is a fun month. And by fun, Kerry actually means that if he could delete a month from the calendar year, he would pick October, because it fucking sucks.

From: Miles (2:07 PM)   
should i take him out for dinner?

From: Miles (2:07 PM)   
is that enough??

From: Miles (2:08 PM)   
i could get him something for the apartment but it’s my apartment too so what’s the point

From: Miles (2:08 PM)   
do people normally go out or stay in??

From: Miles (2:09 PM)   
maybe i’ll just get him a fruit basket

From: Miles (2:09 PM)   
i’m kidding that’s nowhere near enough

To: Miles (2:09 PM)   
Aren’t there regular gifts you’re supposed to get for anniversaries?

From: Miles (2:10 PM)   
would he want an edible arrangement if i got him something else too

From: Miles (2:10 PM)   
WHAT

From: Miles (2:10 PM)   
there are NOT what the fuck

To: Miles (2:11 PM)   
Literally just google anniversary presents and there’s a list

From: Miles (2:11 PM)   
oh god

From: Miles (2:12 PM)   
clocks are for the first anniversary??

To: Miles (2:13 PM)   
Then get him a fucking clock

From: Miles (2:13 PM)   
HAVE YOU MET JON HE WOULDN’T WANT A CLOCK

From: Miles (2:14 PM)   
except if it was a cool antique-y clock but i don’t know enough about those to get one

To: Miles (2:14 PM)   
Then get something you know he’d like, dumbass

From: Miles (2:14 PM)   
but what do I get???

From: Miles (2:28 PM)   
I HAVE AN IDEA

.

October is a fun month. And by fun, Kerry actually means that if he could delete a month from the calendar year, he would pick October, because it fucking sucks. Something about the combination of midterm stress, the slow realization that most New Year’s resolutions went unfulfilled, and learning that Halloween isn't as fun when you're in your twenties all just means that October is, patently, the worst month.

Apparently, he can add “Miles doesn’t know how to handle anniversaries” to that list, because this is fucking ridiculous. Kerry loves the guy to bits, and he loves Jon, but Jesus, both of them are bad at gift ideas.

“Jon is terrible at gifts,” Barbara admits when Kerry tries to complain at her. “He’s been asking me and Chris for advice. I don’t think he realizes that we’re just as bad as him.”

“Why doesn’t he ask Aaron?”

“Because he thinks anyone who dresses like Aaron couldn’t have any taste in anything.” She pauses. “That’s a direct quote, by the way. And I get it, but Aaron’s the best out of all three of us. Are you good at gifts?”

Kerry shrugs. He doesn’t have a long list of people he gets gifts for, and most everyone he does, he knows them well enough that it’s a non-issue by now. He and Miles have longstanding gift-giving traditions in place, and it takes a hell of a lot of the stress out of it. “Miles likes what I get him,” he says instead, because it sounds better. “Besides, don’t you have your own anniversary to worry about pretty soon?”

“No,” Barbara says, and then pauses. “Wait, shit, I think I do.”

“You don’t know when your anniversary is?”

“I know,” she says defensively. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s been a year already.”

Kerry can agree with that. Somehow, everything that happened in the last year became the status quo so fast that it felt like it was always that way. “What are you going to do?”

“Bug the shit out of Jon.”

“Good plan.”

Barbara leans forward a little. Kerry thinks that it’s genuine interest, you know, like how friends generally have in each other, until he realizes that her eyes are fixed over his shoulder. He immediately shifts over to the side, and she pouts at him. “Kerry!”

“No!”

“I want to see it!”

“It’s not done yet, no looking!”

“I can only see one page, come on, it’s your first fully original thing with us, I want insider information.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “The deets.”

“You will get the deets the same time as everyone else,” Kerry says, aiming for haughtiness and landing a little closer to smug superiority.

“Everyone except for Gray,” Barbara mutters.

“Gray has to approve it, he gets early access,” Kerry reminds her. “When does he get here again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, the flight lands a little before two o’clock. Aaron’s picking him and Chris up at the airport.”

Kerry gives her a knowing look. “You excited?”

Barbara beams. “I’m excited.”

“How long’s it been?”

“Three months, give or take. Chris hasn’t been back since he moved, so he’s got a lot of people he’s going to try to visit.”

“But mostly you,” Kerry says.

“Mostly me,” she agrees. “Probably you too, though.”

Kerry doesn’t think he’s had an actual conversation with Chris since he moved out to Los Angeles, but he’s not about to say that. “He can if he has time. Miles is going to be busy all weekend, so that means I have nothing going on.”

Barbara gives him a strange look, and Kerry immediately decides he’s not having that shit today, so he waves a hand at her. “Get out, I have to edit things.”

“I can’t be in the room when you edit?”

“Not if you’re going to try and look at what I’m editing.”

“Am I in it?”

“No,” Kerry lies, because the company can cast whoever they want to fit his script, and it doesn’t matter that one of the roles is absolutely written for her. “Now leave.”

“I’ll tell Chris you want to hang out,” Barbara decides, and starts towards the door.

“That’s not what I said,” Kerry says, but he’s already looking at the script, and he can feel himself going into writer mode. He makes a mental note to send this to Miles to look over. He definitely owes Kerry one after all this anniversary bullshit.

.

From: Miles (10:11 AM)   
okay so hypothetically

From: Miles (10:12 AM)   
what if I want to get Jon something

From: Miles (10:12 AM)   
but this is something he should really have a say in getting

From: Miles (10:12 AM)   
and I don’t want to do it without him

To: Miles (10:13 AM)   
Is this present something that he wants?

From: Miles (10:14 AM)   
yeah we’ve talked about it before

To: Miles (10:15 AM)   
Could the present be the trip going to get the thing?

To: Miles (10:15 AM)   
You can pick it out together

From: Miles (10:17 AM)   
you have the most beautiful brain I have ever seen

From: Miles (10:17 AM)   
by the way I sent you script notes. nice job dude

To: Miles (10:18 AM)   
Thanks man

To: Miles (10:19 AM)   
Oh and one more thing

From: Miles (10:21 AM)   
??

To: Miles (10:22 AM)   
When you go to pick out the present

To: Miles (10:23 AM)   
Go to a shelter, not the pet store

From: Miles (10:26 AM)   
okay how did you figure that out

To: Miles (10:27 AM)   
You’re really predictable

.

Kerry knows the exact moment that Chris and Gray get to the studio because he can hear Barbara’s voice from all the way down the hall. He stays at his computer, partly because he has one last edit to make and partly because that reunion isn’t for him to see. They’re probably clinging to each other and being gross. It’s not his business.

“Hey, Kerry,” Blaine says from the door. “Chris is back.”

Kerry closes his window, glances up, and gives him his best arched eyebrow. It’s not very good, because he can’t arch an eyebrow, but he’s trying, damn it. “I guessed so, yeah.”

“I haven’t seen him,” Blaine admits. “I’m letting them, you know.” He waves a hand awkwardly in the general direction of the voices. “Do that.”

“It’s nice of you to let them do that,” Kerry agrees. “You could also let me do this.”

“I just wanted to read your script,” Blaine says. “You’re protecting that thing like it’s your child.”

“It’s absolutely my child,” Kerry says. “What are your intentions towards my script-child, Blaine?”

“Reading. Nothing more, sir.”

Kerry would like to think that Blaine learned how to keep a straight face from him, because the kid is damn good at it. “I’ll consider it. Now get out and go say hi to Chris.”

“I’ll send their head guy over your way,” Blaine promises, and wanders off. Kerry opens his script one more time and tries not to sigh. It’s good, and he knows that. But some days good is just not what he needs, and the day where he gives a perfect stranger his work to evaluate and use as the basis for hiring him on a contract is one of those days.

“I could just delete this,” he says to himself, not for any real reason. He won’t, but sometimes it’s satisfying to think about. He drums his fingers on his desk, flicking his eyes up and down the screen. “Just fucking. Get rid of it. Start over.”

“Please don’t,” a voice says at the door. Kerry jerks in surprise and looks up to see a tall man in the doorway. He manages to fight down his knee-jerk reaction of  _ oh god he’s pretty _ up until the guy smiles at him, and even as he's realizing he's fucked, Kerry knows that they’re going to get along. The guy just smiles disarmingly, totally unaware that Kerry is on the verge of a crisis. “If that’s the script I was reading on the plane, you don’t have to change a thing.”

Kerry looks slowly between his computer screen and the guy who is almost definitely Gray. “Okay, I’m literally editing it right now, so. Failed step one.”

“You’re editing the final draft that you sent me?”

“I edit right up until the day it’s in the actors’ hands.” He pauses. “And sometimes after that.”

Probably-Gray shakes his head. “Okay, whatever floats your boat. So you would be the infamous Kerry Shawcross?”

Kerry snorts. “No, I’m just the regular Kerry Shawcross. And you’re Gray Haddock?”

“The one and only. That I know of, I mean.”

“You meet a lot of people named Gray?”

“I have, actually.” Gray smiles again and Kerry’s brain takes the opportunity to remind him that this man is exactly his type and also kind of his boss. He hates life. “Anyways, I’m happy to talk revisions with you, but I have other things I have to do at the moment. Debriefing with company bosses, and all that.”

Kerry nods wisely. “Management things. You go ahead and take care of that, I’m here as long as you are. My schedule’s pretty flexible.”

“Good,” Gray says. “So I can take you out for coffee tomorrow and we can go over the script?”

“I,” Kerry says, and aggressively tries to remind himself that this is a work offer, not personal. “I mean, I’ve got office hours for my students till two o’clock tomorrow, but I’m free starting around three?”

“You’re a professor?”

“Gotta pay the bills somehow.”

Gray laughs. “Yeah, you do. I’ll email you, we’ll find a time tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Kerry says, and smiles at Gray. Gray’s smile widens, and he gives Kerry the tiniest of awkward waves before going on his way.

Almost immediately, Barbara slides into his office. “So?”

Kerry tries to drop his smile, but he can’t help it. “So what?”

“So you seem really smiley,” she prods.

Chris’s head pokes into the doorframe. “Hi, Kerry. You do look smiley.”

And Kerry knows he shouldn’t, that these are the kind of people who will not let this drop when he wants them to, but he sighs. “You didn’t tell me he was  _ pretty. _ ”

Barbara gasps. Kerry closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see her grinning.

“Oh,” Chris says. “This is going to be fun.”

.

From: Miles (9:22 PM)   
her name is ginger and she’s ours now   
attachment: puppy!!!!!.png

To: Miles (9:23 PM)   
Miles, that is a black dog, why is her name Ginger

From: Miles (9:24 PM)   
don’t insult our daughter we love her

To: Miles (9:25 PM)   
Happy anniversary, you assholes

From: Miles (9:25 PM)   
shut up you love us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This is Ginger,](http://www.dogbreedslist.info/uploads/allimg/dog-pictures/Polish-Hunting-Dog-3.jpg) in case anyone's curious.


	6. always be around and around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To: Geoff (2:21 PM)  
> I’ve been invited to go drinking with the millennials.

From: Geoff (2:17 PM)  
Jack and Caiti want to go out tonight.

From: Geoff (2:17 PM)  
They said they’d get us dinner but I think it’s the wink-wink nudge-nudge gonna-get-laid kind of going out.

From: Geoff (2:18 PM)  
We should say yes right

To: Geoff (2:21 PM)  
You can say yes, I’ve been invited to go drinking with the millennials.

From: Geoff (2:22 PM)  
Drinking?

From: Geoff (2:23 PM)  
Without me??

To: Geoff (2:25 PM)  
The design department boys finally invited me to one of their drink nights.

To: Geoff (2:25 PM)  
You can go by yourself?

From: Geoff (2:28 PM)  
It’s not a foursome with only three people there.

To: Geoff (2:29 PM)  
I’ll try and get away from drinks early, how’s that?

From: Geoff (2:30 PM)  
Yes, please.

.

Despite only getting her invitation earlier today, Griffon is not the last person to the pub. That turns out to be Jon, who flies through the door with a shopping bag. He slides into the booth next to Patrick and glances around, out of breath and cheeks flushed from the January chill. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Jon, you’re literally five minutes late,” Pat says.

“Five whole minutes of waiting,” Jordan adds. “Five really long minutes. Griffon almost left.”

“Bullshit, I invited her, she came to see me.” Jon glances at Griffon. “Hi, Griffon.”

“Hi, Jon,” Griffon says, smiling. “Did you have fun shopping?”

“Shopping?” Jon repeats, and looks at the bag sitting on the table. “Oh. Yeah, sure, that’s not important, let’s-” he drops the bag under the table and pushes it around with his foot until it’s out of sight. Griffon’s curiosity is officially piqued.

She’s apparently the only one, because Jordan ignores the bag and looks at Pat. “Alright, Pat. This was your idea, do you have something you need to complain about?”

“Nah,” Pat admits. “It’s just been a while, I figured we were due a drink night.”

“Oh,” Jordan says, looking disappointed.

“Jordan,” she says gently, “did _you_ have something you need to complain about?”

“No, I just like Pat’s stories. He has good ones.”

Pat rolls his eyes. “This is just supposed to be a catch-up night, not a story night.”

“Then you start,” Jon suggests. “You have gathered us all here today because…”

“Because my life is boring and I figured one of you could entertain me?”

“No stories?” Jordan looks kind of like a kicked puppy. Griffon has to fight back a smile.

Pat shrugs. “The other day I saw a guy taking his cat on a walk. I guess that’s sort of weird?”

“Cats need exercise too,” Griffon points out. She and Geoff haven’t taken their cats for walks before, but she’s pretty sure Jack has. She’s seen cat leashes in their house before, and she knows Geoff didn’t put them there.

Jordan sits back, looking smug. “See? Pat has the best stories.”

Jon scrunches up his face at Jordan. “That’s not even a story.”

“The most interesting things happen to Pat,” Jordan amends.

“That’s not even something that happened to me,” Pat says, ignoring Jordan’s pout. “Here, let’s move on, Jon, what’s something that happened to you?”

Jon shrugs. “Miles and I got a dog, but you all knew that.”

Griffon did know that. She’d been one of the many people included in the first “look at my beautiful new dog” text. She smiles at Jon. “I have to come over sometime and meet her, she looks sweet.”

“She’s the best dog,” Jon says seriously. “In the entire world.”

“That was like three months ago,” Jordan points out. “What about right now?”

“I don’t have a lot going on. One of Miles’s friends from high school is in town for the week, so I’m letting them do their catch-up shit.”

“Miles still keeps in touch with friends from high school?” Griffon says, trying not to sound too disbelieving. Maybe she’s just too damn old, but she doesn’t remember almost anyone who she went to high school with. If someone wanted to visit her, she’d need proof that she actually knew them.

“Just one friend,” Jon says. “He told me a lot of high school stories about them together. Lots of Kyle this and Kyle that.”

“Do you like Kyle?” Pat asks.

“Yeah, he’s cool. And Miles likes him, which is more important. Who’s sharing stories next?”

“Griffon is,” Jordan says immediately.

Griffon takes a long drink of her beer, thinking carefully about it. “The university still isn’t letting me do a class with power tools.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why not? The students are fucking adults, they can make their own choices about power tools.”

“Liability.” Griffon tries not to roll her eyes. Instead she just sighs. “They don’t want to get sued if someone chops a hand off.”

“Which isn’t likely to happen, because you’ll go through safety things,” Pat guesses.

“Of course,” Griffon says, almost indignantly. Chainsaws are not something you can fuck around with, and she’d fail any student who tried before something had a shadow of a chance of going wrong. The university does not seem to understand that. “Other than that, not much is happening. Geoff is getting excited about basketball.”

Jon and Pat exchange a helpless look. Even Jordan shrugs. “I do football, not basketball.”

“Does Brandon know that?” Pat mutters.

“Brandon knows less about basketball than me,” Jordan admits. “Geoff is a Celtics fan, right? How’re they doing?”

“I don’t have the first clue,” Griffon admits freely. “He’s the sports one, I’m the chainsaw one. He knows more about that than me.”

“I like you more than Geoff,” Jon offers.

“You’ve met Geoff twice,” Griffon can’t help but point out.

“And you like me more than he does.”

“How’s Jack?” Pat asks suddenly. “You guys are around each other a lot, right?”

Griffon tries to fight down a smile. That’s definitely one way of putting it. “He’s been doing well, he got a good course to teach this semester. And Caiti’s been working this year as the librarian at the elementary school.”

“She seems like a librarian,” Jordan says thoughtfully. “That school has a lot of good people, our kids are going to grow up right.”

“Our kids?” Griffon repeats, maybe a little too interested. Jon and Pat are staring at him too.

Jordan must realize his mistake immediately, because the backpedaling is swift and frantic. “I mean, hypothetically, in the event that any of us have kids and decide to raise them here, we would know that they’re in good hands, right?”

“Who said anything about kids?” Pat snorts, but he goes quiet when he sees everyone else’s faces. “Wow. All of you, huh?”

“I mean,” Jon says hesitantly. “I’m not ruling anything out. It’s too early to say.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jordan admits. “I know Brandon wants kids one day, I just don’t know if I do.”

Griffon shrugs. “Geoff and I have talked about it. We’re at the point where we’ll let whatever happens happen.”

And they’d talked for a long time, about whether or not they wanted this, about letting the chips fall where they may. Griffon knows that they both want kids one day, and they have plenty of time to make that a reality. Even if it’s not a priority yet, they’re both prepared to be parents if that should come up. And if not, they’re also comfortable being the cool godparents for their friends’ kids. She’s pretty sure they’ve earned godparent status for Jack and Caiti. If frequent double-dates and four-way dates don’t get you godparent status, then what’s the point?

She takes a long drink of her beer as Jon says, “So you and Brandon are still holding it together?”

“Living in different apartments doesn’t mean that we’re falling apart or anything,” Jordan points out. “He’s fine. Still weird as fuck, but fine. It’s working out.”

Griffon likes Brandon, even if he is weird as fuck. It’s the same logic by which she likes Miles. Even if these kids are much younger than her (and she still refuses to accept how close Jon is to her own age; she’s the mom of this department, damn it) she still wants to see them happy. If they get that happiness by dating eccentric creative types, then she’s going to support them. That’s how her husband gets his happiness, and she’ll never stop supporting him.

“That’s good,” Griffon says warmly. “Tell him we say hi.”

“Tell him Griffon says hi,” Pat snorts. “Tell him I say go fuck yourself.”

“Your overwhelming support means worlds to us,” Jordan says in a monotone. “We appreciate your love and all that shit.”

“Thanks,” Pat says. “See, this is nice, we’re all talking. This is a success, we’re sharing things. Speaking of sharing, Jon, what are you hiding in the bag?”

Jon freezes. Actually deer-in-the-headlights freezes. “Nothing?”

“Nice try,” Pat answers, “but you don’t run late. So that’s something important.”

“No it’s not,” Jon very blatantly lies.

Pat gives Griffon a very particular look of skepticism. It’s the kind of skepticism that says “not only do I not believe what he’s saying, I already know that you don’t either.” The look is completely correct and Griffon can’t deny that she’s a little curious.

“I’m going to take the bag,” Jordan announces.

“No, nope, no-” Jon snatches the bag up before Jordan can even reach out, clutching it near his chest. “You’re not taking jack shit, fuck off.”

Griffon narrows her eyes. The bag is nondescript, just a standard looking gift bag, light purple with no store name on it, but she recognizes it. She’s not surprised that Patrick and Jordan don’t, but now it’s just a question of whether or not it’s worth announcing.

Pat lunges for the bag, and Jon jumps out of the booth. “No, okay, I’m going to go put this in my car before one of you fuckers tries to steal it.”

“Griffon isn’t stealing it,” Jordan protests. “You’re not being fair to her.”

“I don’t need to steal it,” Griffon says.

Jordan shrugs. “Well, yeah, neither do I, but I still want to know what’s in it.”

Griffon doesn’t answer that, because she might know what’s in it. Jordan doesn’t seem to notice, but she can feel Pat eyeing her suspiciously.

Jon looks slowly between the three of them and then settles on Griffon. “You’re not going to take it?”

“And neither will they,” Griffon says firmly. “Sit down, keep drinking.”

“Wise words from Mrs. Ramsey,” Jon mutters, but he sits back down. “You know what’s in the bag, don’t you?”

“I know where the bag is from,” she says. “I don’t know what’s in-”

“You know what’s in the bag,” Jon repeats.

Griffon sighs. “I can guess,” she admits. “I was with Jack when he got his, and it’s the same bag.”

“What the fuck are they talking about?” Jordan stage-whispers to Pat, who just shakes his head. “Did they forget that more of us are here?”

Jon sighs. “I should probably just say, shouldn’t I?”

“If you want,” Griffon says diplomatically. “Does anyone else know you’re planning on it?”

“A couple of people. But you’d be the first to.” He swallows. “You know. To _know_.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve gotta start somewhere.” Jon looks around the table. “This stays between us, okay?”

“Of course,” Jordan says immediately. He must know that this is a serious situation, because he leans forward intently. “You really don’t have to, I was just fucking around.”

“But we won’t tell anyone,” Pat adds. He looks at the bag, eyebrows furrowing slowly. “What store gives out plain lavender bags?”

“The jewelry store on Sixth Avenue,” Griffon murmurs. She’d helped Jack pick his engagement ring there. She knows that bag.

Jon looks at her, and there’s such naked nervousness in his face that she can’t breathe for a second. “You can’t tell him,” he says.

“Never,” Griffon says. “That’s for you to do.”

Jon grimaces, reaching into the bag. “Yeah, I could use some advice on that.”

“No fucking way,” Pat whispers.

Jon pulls his hand out of the bag and sets the ring box in the middle of the table. “So, uh. This is for Miles.”

Jordan’s jaw drops. Pat’s eyes are bulging. And, slowly, Griffon can feel herself begin to smile.

.

To: Geoff (8:16 PM)  
I don’t think I’m going to make it to dinner tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Our fic title and all chapter titles this time come from [Marry Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4XepeFwwAI) by Band of Horses. If you're interested, I have some extended author's notes and BTS information and such [right here,](http://elysewillcms.tumblr.com/private/143534008387/tumblr_o62jysnS1f1rv5uzi) including an entire plot that didn't make the cut. So, y'know, do with that what you will.
> 
> As always, if you have anything you want to say, you can say it via [Tumblr](http://elysewillcms.tumblr.com) or [Twitter.](http://twitter.com/ezrabridgers) <3


End file.
